


The Beat Goes On

by janescott



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: For moonmelody who bid on me in the help_haiti auction. Her prompt was: maybe something that explores how Adam introduces and incorporates Tommy into his circle of friends and what his dynamic with them might be like and how that impacts Adam/Tommy? Tommy seems so different from Adam's circle of friends. And yet, we see Adam taking him along like a lost little puppy.  It just seems as if it would be an interesting dynamic. And hmmm ... it's not that close to the prompt exactly, but this is what the words did when they fell out. Beta'd by i_bleed_magenta</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beat Goes On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonmelody](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=moonmelody).



Tommy knows it's a bad idea, but he goes along with it anyway. He tries to point out to Adam that he's already met his friends, at Adam's birthday party, but – "That's not the same, Tommy. There were so many people there. That's not _meeting_ them," Adam explains as he comes out of the bathroom, pulling a shirt over his head.

Tommy rolls to his side on the bed, propping his head in his hand. He watches as Adam settles the shirt over his body, and his fingers twitch with wanting to touch the skin that soon disappears.

They haven't been ... this for very long. Sometimes Tommy rolls the word boyfriend around his mouth like an unfamiliar taste. He's never used it out loud.

Watching Adam get ready for their night out, Tommy wonders why. After the fuck-ups and the mis-steps, (let's not talk about Adam hooking up with Drake after he got back from the UK and Tommy _really_ doesn't want to think about the clusterfuck that getting back together with Delmy was), they're ... there.

Their lives are wound together in that way that's unique to couples who get close very quickly, and Tommy can't imagine not being with Adam now.

Still. His friends. Tommy pulls a face when he knows Adam's occupied with doing something complicated to his eyes in the mirror. Adam's friends make Tommy feel clumsy and slow. They're quick-witted; lightning-fast and funny. Their stories weave and wind; stories that bind them together as friends, as family; talking in shorthand that Tommy can't even begin to understand.

And to be in a room where there's going to be more than one at a time, and outside of a very large group of people ...

Tommy sighs heavily as he sits up and swings his legs to the floor. Adam glances back, after smudging his eyeliner one last time and says, "You ready? This is going to be fun!"

Tommy bites back what he wants to say, and aims for a smile: Adam looks lit up from the inside out and Tommy hates it when that light gets dimmed for any reason. He slips his arms around Adam's waist and tilts his head up, smiling as the glitter on his face – around his eyes and shimmering on his mouth – glints and shines. It's tempting to reach up; to taste that glitter and persuade Adam to stay in – Tommy's pretty sure it wouldn't take much ...

"Yeah. I'm ready. Let's ..." (get this over with) "go."

"You'll have fun, I promise," Adam says, reading Tommy's unspoken words in the downturn of his mouth. He rubs his thumb over Tommy's bottom lip and says, "It's just my friends. It's not a firing squad. Try and relax."

Tommy can still feel Adam's thumb on his mouth as they get into the car; like a slowly receding echo.

Fun, he thinks. Sure. Fun.

_Fun_ isn't the word Tommy's thinking a little while later at the club, as he watches Adam and Brad dancing, and manages to catch maybe every third word Markus is shouting at him across the table. Although for _dancing_ he thinks, picking up his drink, and taking a large swallow, hissing a little as the ice clacks against his teeth, read _grinding_ as Brad turns so his back is flush to Adam's chest.

He tilts his head back and laughs as Adam leans down to whisper something in his ear as they move easily to the thumping beat of whateverthefuck is playing.

Tommy catches the word "tourist" from Markus, and manages to tear his eyes away, blinking in surprise as Danielle and Alisan both exclaim at the same time. He doesn't hear the words again – mostly – but he catches "Bitch" from Danielle and "tactless" from Alisan.

Sighing, Tommy shoves his hand through his hair and leans across the table, all-too-conscious of Adam and Brad on the dancefloor, even though he's not watching them any more. "Didn't catch that," he shouts at Markus. "What did you say?"

"I _said_ that I don't like tourists. That's all."

Tommy stares at him blankly for a moment, half-aware of Danielle and Alisan still scolding in the background. Tourist ... what the fuck – oh. He sits back in the booth, and runs a finger around the top of his glass, his eyes going to the dancefloor again. A new song has started – something slower – and Brad has turned around, as Adam's hands slide down to the small of his back.

Tommy feels something like jealousy rock in his gut like travel-sickness as he watches, and Markus' words dig under his skin. He gets, he thinks, that Markus is just being protective, because as far as Adam's friends knew, Tommy had been straight until recently. And maybe calling him a tourist is a fair call as far as Markus is concerned, but Tommy doesn't feel up to giving a rundown of his whole sexual history right now.

He looks up again, and finds Adam staring at him over Brad's head; a smile curving his mouth as the flashing lights catch the glitter on his face; making it shimmer. Tommy smiles back, reflexively almost, and the twist in his gut loosens a little. He knows exactly what to say to Markus.

Tommy's not sharp-witty like Adam's friends, and he knows he's never going to be the smartest guy in the room. But there are some things that Tommy knows that Adam's friends don't – like the way it makes him feel to watch Adam dancing with Brad; how they look so close and kind of right together, but it feels like nostalgia to Tommy; even just watching from the sidelines. Or like the way Adam's hands feel when they're sliding over Tommy's bare skin, and nothing else makes sense. Tommy could say any one of a thousand things right now about how Adam makes him feel.

But right now, all Tommy says out loud as he drains the rest of his drink – the whiskey warm in the back of his throat – and stands up, is "I'm not a tourist, Markus. Don't worry." He squeezes Markus' shoulder as he makes his way out of the booth, and flashes a smile at Alisan and Danielle to let them know that he's okay as he heads to the dancefloor.

Tommy's a lot of things, he knows – headbanger; guitar/bass player; the guy with all the tattoos; the guy with the hair – whatever. All of that fades into the background around Adam. Around Adam, he's just Tommy. Just – himself. And after so many years – and so many girls, and so many guys, to be able to just _be himself_ \- it's ... peaceful and terrifying and amazing all at once.

He reaches Brad and Adam on the dancefloor, and the jealousy is still twisting, but the sound of it is fading as he lays a hand on Brad's back – just above Adam's and says, "Hey; you mind?"

Brad turns and steps back as Adam moves his hands. He glances up at Adam, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before saying to Tommy: "Nope. He's all yours. I'm going to go make Markus dance with me. I feel like being scandalous."

With that, Brad slips into the crowd and Tommy finds himself being pulled against Adam's chest. He winds his arms around Adam's waist, resting his hands on the small of his back and leaning his head against his shoulder. The song has changed again; something much faster, but Tommy just leans against Adam; feeling his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. He shivers a little when Adam runs his hands down his back; over and over again in slow strokes.

"Sorry," Adam says, leaning down so he can speak quietly into Tommy's ear. "We got a little carried away, I guess. You all right?"

Tommy shifts so he can tilt his head, and slides his hands up Adam's back to his neck, silently pulling him down and kissing him slow and deep; the music booming around them as bodies shift and move.

"Yeah," he says, pulling back finally; breathless. "I'm fine."


End file.
